Flannel Time, Church & Chaos Theory, Project Runway & Seal

So yes this is an eclectic mix this evening.

It's flannel time. With the change in the weather, I've actually turned my AC off and this morning I woke up from a strangely satisfying sleep and realized that I was just a little bit chilly. So I figured it was time to bring out the flannel sheets. I can't wait to go to sleep tonight and be all toasty. Having said that, last night's dreams were fairly interesting. I was back at USNA, but instead of the usual panicking weird dreams where I'm late for exams, didn't study, late for formation, or some other anxiety like dream, apparently some friends (no clue who they were) and I were off to go have sex with some of the football players. We never actually made it. But I'm hoping that my sex drive is slowly coming back to life. That was one of the early casualties of the whole thyroid issue.

So I happened upon a very interesting blog post at Father Jakes about Church and Chaos Theory. Kind of deep for a Sunday, but very interesting. And I'll need to quote just a bit:

"I think our current unpleasantness is, to some degree, a result of this tension. From the complexity of human systems (relationships), we have drawn out something new, and are attempting to give it form and order. There are those who champion order, and demand that all matters Anglican take on a rigid form. And there are those who champion chaos, refusing to acknowledge the authority of any restrictions. Of course, neither of these extremes will allow us to integrate a new understanding into our consciousness. It is out of the struggle between these two forces that something new is emerging. And for that, as painful as it may seem right now, I think we can be thankful.

The fabric of the universe is being rent asunder. Good. Because that fabric is made of the finite thoughts of limited beings, fashioned into a curtain to hide from us the Creator, whose glory will consume us if revealed all at once. We need the curtain, our very human reason, to protect us from being consumed. But I think sometimes it is beneficial for a corner of it to be torn away, so that we can glimpse the Creator, and so be reminded of who we are; finite beings straddling order and chaos, which are both a part of the creative process of a power greater than ourselves."

Hmm, a church where you can think and question life and God? That's why I love it!

Project Runway. So while the obvious hottie is Jack (good hair, great bod, what's not to like!), I'm sort of digging Stephen. He's so adorkable. And has very interesting, and funny, expressions and comments. And it looks like he's serious, but not cut your throat serious like some of the other designers who need to have their egos deflated just a wee bit. Anyways, it will be interesting to see what happens.

And finally, Seal. I'm making a new CD for Museum Man and I'm really loving the new Seal song. So enjoy:

Belated Blog-versary!!

With all of the stuff going on, I realized that I missed my blog-versary! My official blog-versary is 1 November. Though I think I wrote it at a little after 1AM, so it's probably Halloween. Oh well. I'm now entering my 4th year of blogging.

And I'm still digging it. It's good for me to just rant some time, to take the time to think things outloud, or on the computer screen, or to just capture a moment in time. I've got a various and assorted group of blog daddies due to the Homo Blog Jam in 2004. And I've actually met a few of them. Introvert that I am, I usually don't say hello to them. That's just the way it is.

I am kind of depressed that some of my favorite bloggers have either officially shut down, like Eric, or only blog like once very three months (GeekSlut!). I think I can understand why at times.

But I do love the ability to peer into another world, to walk in someone's footsteps, to read & feel about experiences that may have been mine in another life, or if I had taken a different road. And the things I've learned! About the larger gay world, about politics, about my Church at large. It's all so fascinating and so fitting for my ADHD and introverted personality.

I haven't succumbed to Facebook or MySpace yet. Between work and the blog, my original web site is on life support. So I can't even imagine having to deal with one of the social networks. How much does one need to live on the internet anyways?

{Spinning the subject wheel}

So I did a movie marathon on Thursday and Friday. The Island. Not bad at all. And Ewan McGregor is as hot as always. Forumula 17. Very cute Taiwanese movie about coming out. Recommend it. Boy Culture. I was very surprised. I love this movie. Definitely a thumbs up. Unfortunately, I did pick up a stinker. "I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry". Ugh! Words cannot describe my hatred of this movie. It was so bad that I only watched the first 30 minutes of it. I get it, Adam Sandler's character (and him) are straight. But my ability to suspend my disbelief when Adam Sandler's character is apparently sleeping with all of the bar staff at the local Hooters? Um, no. Adam Sander falls into that kind of cute, sort of attractive space. Not the oh so hot that he's got not one, not two, but 6 women in bed with him. That I'm not believing. Not by a long shot. And I'm not a big fan of the word "faggot" that was hurled around quite frequently. Anyways, not good. Don't see it.

Ciao for now!

And now back to our regularly scheduled . . .

complaining. Hey, I was thankful for a day! That's all it says on the calendar. And yes I'm joking, but . . . . . .

My body is weird. So I looked at the little note that came with my new drugs where they talk about low/no thyroid symptoms and it explains alot. It definitely explains the headaches. Not so much the weird sore throat, but maybe. Plus I've got something weird going on with my hair that even I can't explain. Yes it talks about the fatigue, etc. So it's nice to know I'm not a complete hypochondriac. The thing that's DRIVING ME UP THE WALL right now is my tongue. Yes my tongue. For some reason when I get tired or overly fatigued, it feels like my tongue is swollen. A friend of mine called this AM and after a few minutes she was like, "Have you been drinking?" Don't I wish! No! It's just this weird swollen tongue thing. Which is also causing me to bite my tongue at weird times, like when I want to try to sleep! Like I'll roll over and somehow bite my tongue in the process. Yeah, that'll wake you up in a nice pleasant mood.

Even more weirdness. So I weighed myself. I needed to see what the damage was. I could tell I had gained weight. Clothes were tighter, etc. And I actually feel like I'm walking like a fat person? It's hard to explain. And yes, I'm pushing maximum density. A personal record that I do not care to achieve. Well I thought, let's try to go to the gym and see what I can do. Walking into Dupont Circle just about killed me the other day. But pain in weird places like my shins and calf muscles. Plus my lower back, but I think the back pain is just the extra weight I'm carrying. Anyways, I trudge over to the YMCA and climb up to the second floor, ditch my sweats, and plunk down on a bike. Well, for some reason, the bike doesn't hurt. I do the bike for like 45 minutes, and at a decent level & heartbeat. I was very happy about that. So then I thought, okay, let's try some abs. Well have you ever exercised and could start to feel that little twinge that means a cramp is coming if you keep doing that? Yeah, not so much. I was doing a cross abs exercise and all of a sudden, BAM! I'm in pain. Like OMG my appendix burst pain. Pain so bad that just lying there sucked. So I'm taking deep breathes, trying to make it stop. Realize that in the position I'm in, it's not going to get any better and manage to get myself partially upright and the pain starts to subside a bit. Not good. Well so much for doing abs for awhile. I think I'm going to stick with the bike for a bit.

Now, all things considered, gaining weight, even in the thin/beauty obsessed gay culture, is not a big deal. Not having cancer I think is a bit more important than being fat right now. So I can deal with that. And I have a plan (because you know I always have a plan!) to lose weight. I always want to lose weight before my next vacation (and definitely for my next gay vacation!). So I'm going to use the dating desert to try to do that. And I'm going to give up my company's holiday party ("oh my flight back from San Diego lands at 6PM, I'll be too tired to attend this year"), my birthday (41 isn't a good one to celebrate anyways) and New Year's Eve (which is without fail always very anticlimatic). Which I think is a very good decision, because if I'm this weak now, I need all of the extra help I can get to get back into shape and deal with the continuing side effects of the cancer and the drugs. Oh well, it's the price I'll pay to be thin and fabulous in time to meet Mr. Right on my cruise in March.

Thankful

I am very thankful this Thanksgiving Day.

I'm thankful that I have a good job, make a good living, and have good healthcare.
I'm thankful that I was able to have my radiation treatment on Monday.
I'm thankful that my time in isolation wasn't too bad and that I have very few side effects.
I'm thankful that so many of my friends and family have supported me through this process.

I am truly blessed and I am very thankful for that.

I'm HOT!!!!!

And I mean that in the most literal sense. When they released me from the hospital this afternoon, I was radiating at about 4 mrads/hour. And that was from about 3 feet away. I'm sure once I left VA (land of the straight and the fat) and I returned to the gayborhood, I probably wasn't hot in any sense of the word. Well that's not technically true. I'm still technically supposed to stay away from people and avoid close contact for another day or two, which is fine. I think I can handle some more quality me time, as long as it's on my terms!

So the bubble room at the VHC wasn't bad at all. On the eighth floor I had a great view of the local suburban neighborhood with a lot of trees in the midst of their fall folliage, so it was quite pretty. And I had the Ballston skyline in the distance. But . . . . it was still a room I was stuck in for over 48 hours.

Let's see, I didn't get the insurance fiasco settled until 30 minutes before I was supposed to be admitted. So I rushed to the hospital and was shown up to the room. In addition to the standard multipurpose/position bed, there was also a great little built in couch next to the window and I envisioned many hours curled up there with my book reading and looking up to take in the amazing scenery. But not so much. No sooner do I arrive than the nurse shows up with a big roll or paper. To cover anything I might touch. Or walk on. So there was a paper path on the floor. Paper covering the desk, the sink area, even covering the toilet seat. Nice. But not on the couch. So no sitting on the couch for me. That's what the bed was for. Anyways, around 2PM, the Dr. shows up carrying what looks like an old ammo cartridge case from my days in the Navy. Inside is another Tungsten feberge egg which holds the radioactive iodine pills. I pop those bad boys, he measures me (I think initially I'm at 42mrads/hours) and then promptly leaves me to my own devices.

Now the good thing is that on Monday I did manage to catch the Project Runway Marathon for season 3, which is good because I missed some of those early shows. So I managed to pass my time that way. Oh, and I read the 8 Time magazines I had brought with me. And while it's easy to bitch about hospital food, I won't. But let me tell, I could do so VERY EASILY!! And as usual, I found it hard to sleep in the hospital. Not because of a noisy roommate, but because my bed wouldn't shut up! It has that air movement thing going on where it shifts air to different parts of the bed for those who are really infirmed and can't get up. Not my problem because between all of the water and tea I'm drinking, I'm up using the bathroom every 30 minutes. I'm really doing my best to flush the radiation from my system. Anyways, as I lay down, about every 5 minutes or so, some motor kicks on to inflate one section of the bed and deflate another. Oh, by the way I still have the perma headache and perma sore throat. And the sore throat sucks really bad because I've been sucking on lemon drops all day to help my salivary glands. So it's not a good night for me.

Day 2 was more of the same. Except it was a marathon of Real Housewives of Orange County? Oh please some one shoot me now. So I started to read the book my Dad gave me about the Incas. He was raving about it and while it's not really my thing I said I would read it. And it's not really my thing. So I would read a chapter, and then surf the TV for a bit. Oh, speaking of surfing. I love the little gizmo that controls the lights for the room, controls the volume, and calls the nurse. But . . . it only lets you change channels going up! Not down! So if you missed something, you had to go through the whole dial to get back to it. Nice. Oh, and you still have to get out of bed to turn the TV off. Hello people, what are you thinking? Anyways, Day 2 didn't really start to suck until about 4 PM. I had a cute little intern come in to measure my radiation. And unfortunately there are no quotation marks for that. He took the geiger counter, stood about 3 feet away and measured how much radition I was giving off. No ring and there was something about the hair that made me suspect he was family, but anyways. After he left, I sort of had a mini-breakdown. Having the perma-headache and sore throat were getting to me. And I was tired and crabby. And dear lord Tuesday night is just a wasteland on TV. I got a new nurse at night and I begged her to turn the bed off and she's like, "I can't. It doesn't turn off." And then I go, well what happens if I unplug it from the wall, and she looks at me and goes, well then you wont' be able to raise the bed into the sitting position. Okay, thank you dear. You're been a peach. Just some more ice water will be fine and then I won't trouble you anymore. And of course once I got my ice water (for my Crystal Light Raspberry Ice Tea of course), I promptly lowered the bed to horizontal, unplugged it, and then settled into a fairly decent night's sleep with only 4-5 runs to the bathroom. Oh, since I'm excreting most of the radiation (yes I know, TMI, but deal with it), they want me to sit down to use the bathroom (less spray-age) and to flush 3 times. There's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home.

Day 3. I woke up fairly early when I could hear them yelling at a deaf patient down the hall. Again, for all of my bitching (and I am SO good at it), I know I didn't have it bad at all. A lot of the folks in the oncology wing are on hard core chemo and not happy at all. All my schtick about suffering in isolation is nothing compared with what they have to deal with. Anyways, after determining that Today on NBC blows now, I returned to VH1 and apparently it's having some weird Pink flashback moments. So when Pink's new album came out, I was all into "Dear Mr. President." Which is like from April 06. Then they started to play "U and Ur Hand" and of course I had to buy the dance remix to that last summer. And then there was "Who Knew". Again, another Perfectbeat.com purchase in the fall of 2006. Again, LAST YEAR. Then all of a sudden VH1 started to play "U & Ur Hand" earlier this summer, again. And then "Who Knew", again. Its was like a weird De Ja Vouz. And then the other morning I saw a different version of "Dear Mr. President." So odd. Anyways, I sort of read about the Incas until I realized that another Project Runway Marathon was on today! Thank you Bravo! So I spent the day watching that and looking at the clock to see if the real Dr. or intern Dr. McDreamy would come to release me. Well around 2PM, intern Dr. McDreamy came by and measured me again. And I was safe to escape!! They actually got me my discharge papers fairly quickly and I was out of there. Out of there so quickly that they didn't get a chance to cut off my hospital bracelet. Oh well.

Needless to say I'm THRILLED to be home. I start the new thyroid drug replacement, synthroid, tomorrow. Which I'm hoping will help stop the head aches, and also give me some energy. When I get worn out walking to the Soviet Safeway (maybe 7 blocks away), you know that's sad. And I SO need to start the diet. But more on that later.

This Bubble Boy is FREE!

Bubble Boy

If all goes as planned, I'll become Bubble Boy shortly after 10AM tomorrow. I say if as I've got a little bit of an insurance hiccup I'm dealing with. Again, I've been very lucky and very blessed in dealing with all of this crap, but I hit a snag last week.

I need to get pre-certified by my insurance company before I can be admitted to the hospital. They told me the Dr's office should do it. So I call my Dr's office (not my GP, my specialist) and the "lovely" receptionist says the hospital needs to do the pre-certification. So I call the nuclear radiology department at the hospital (who have actually been pretty cool) and they are like, "Yeah, we do the treatment, but it's under your Dr's orders, so it needs to come from them." Which kind of makes sense (oooh, logic. Danger Will Robinson, Danger!).

Anyways, I call the "lovely" receptionist back and now she's singing a different tune. She'd do it, but she doesn't know the procedure code. And now I'm kind of tired of this BS. "You don't know the code? Isn't this a fairly common procedure for someone with thyroid cancer? Are you telling me you don't know the code?" I ask a little bit exasperated! Nope, she doesn't. But the hospital does. Agh. So I call back to the hospital. They are a bit surprised as well, but atleast they offer to call the "lovely" receptionist and "remind" her what the code is. And then they give me a call back saying it's all good. Well, almost. Because when I call on Friday to find out the results of the radiology pictures (which they won't give me, thanks!), the "lovely" receptionist says that my pre-certification is still pending. She says that she's called the insurance company several times and have given them all of the information. But right now my admission is still pending. Lovely. NOT!

So I want to be Bubble Boy. I've got this planned down to the wire on what I'm doing when. And I don't want to end up either staying longer in the hospital, or pushing this treatment back a week or more. Especially cause I'm kind of sick and tired of being sick and tired. I want the treatment over, so I can get on the long term thyroid drug and start to feel better. Damn IT!

So hopefully you won't hear from me till Thanksgiving! Have a good one!

A Conversation about God (Part 1)

I wrote this a couple of weeks ago and meant to publish it, but didn’t. It seems appropriate now:

Last Sunday I went to church twice. Not my usual routine for Sunday, but I had heard that Bishop Robinson was in town preaching that the Church of the Epiphany and I wanted to him here speak. I wasn’t sure if he would address the latest issues in the Anglican Communion, the results of the House of Bishops meeting in New Orleans, or what, but I wanted to go listen to him speak. And then I went to my normal service at St. Thomas’.

But I had company with me that weekend. Susan, a friend of mine from the Navy and her partner Mary (not their real names since they are both active duty) were in town seeing the sights and crashing at my place. And when I mentioned that I was getting up early to go listen to Bishop Robinson, Mary asked to come with me. And I of course said yes!

So we drove down to Epiphany and since we found parking rather quickly (no mean feat in DC), we had time to sit in the pew and chat. We started comparing churches and Mary goes to the protestant chapel on base pretty frequently and sings in the choir there. I explained that I really like my church and that it was very open and inclusive and I felt very welcome there. And Mary said that she liked her church, but that obviously she wasn’t out there, and not sure how open and inclusive they would be.

And then she said, “You know, I know God I loves me, but sometimes I wonder if he really loves me 100%? If he loves me less because of who I am?

I immediately turned to face her squarely, looked her in the eye, and said, “God loves you the way you are. There is no partial love from God. God loves you 100%. We are all God’s children.”

We talked some more and then the service started. After the service, which was different, but nice, we went back to my condo and had breakfast. Then she and Susan went off to explore DC and I headed to St. Thomas’.

As I sat in St. Thomas’, thinking about our previous conversation, and thinking about how Mary felt, I started to get mad. Really mad. I was furious that Mary felt that way. The way Mary feels is the result of people (and a lot of whom are Christians!) who continue to denigrate and denounce GLBT people. Oh, sure it’s “love the sinner, but hate the sin” and all that crap, but I think that’s just a nice little cover for their homophobia. And then I think of BO33, the Dar Es Salam communiqué, and the recent announcement from the House of Bishops. The Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion are saying that GLBT persons are children of God, and that we are full participants in Christ’s Church, but . . . . you can’t serve as Bishops and we can’t bless your relationships. So we welcome you, and we want you to be part of the church, but only about 80% compared to straight people. So no wonder Mary sometimes felt that God didn’t love her 100%. That’s the message she gets from The Episcopal Church, the Anglican Communion, and the larger world around her.

And that’s why it’s important and I tell her that God loves her 100%. That we tell every GLBT person in the church, or in the world at large, that God loves them. That despite all of the machinations of the church, all of the homophobia and hate in the world around us, that there is Good News: That God loves us all!

No Super Powers . . . . Yet!

So I took my first dose of radiation on Tuesday. It was so cute, the pill came in it's own little steel Fabergé egg. This is just the small dose to tag any remaining thyroid tissue in my body. I was hoping that exposure to the radiation would give me some sort of super powers, but so far nothing. It's probably because it's just your normal everyday radiation, not some freaky nuclear, solar, interstellar radiation. I'm just not that lucky.

Actually, I've got the anti-super powers. I'll be doing okay, and then bam, I'm all tired and crap. I definitely felt bad on Monday. Plus having a sore throat didn't help. Tuesday I felt better, but the long trip to Langley on Wednesday for a meeting was not a good idea. I was okay until about 11AM and then it hit me. And in addition to being really tired, it's like my tongue starts to swell up so in addition to having a hard time talking, I keep biting it. Wow, will the fun never stop? I was a zombie the whole drive back. I'm just glad I wasn't driving.

Still had a sore throat and felt crappy, so I worked from home and drank lots of hot lemon echinacea tea. And when I drink hot tea, you know I'm sick. Then this afternoon I trekked back to the hostpital for the full body scans. Talk about fun. Lay there and don't move for over an hour as they take different "pictures" of me. I wasn't sure how I could be "fierce!" if they didn't want me to move. So I just sort of zoned out for a bit. The technician did tell me that there is some residual thryoid tissue in my neck area and that the radiologist will look at all of the pics and then tell my Dr. I'll give him a call tomorrow.

So what does all of this mean. It means I get to spend a couple of fun days in a lead lined room in the hospital next week. They will give me the super big dose and that will hopefully kill all of the remaining thyroid tissue (cancerous or not) remaining in my body. And hopefully I'll be released on Wednesday with instructions to avoid people until my body stops glowing. So to speak. So I should have a quiet Thanksgiving next week. Which is good because then my life starts to ramp up again. I'm really too busy to be sick.

Oh, thanks to K in Dallas for some kick ass photos from PV. Enjoy the sunsets!

This Vacation Has Been Rated PG-13

So I'm hanging from a zip line careening down the side of a mountain under a jungle canopy. It's taken a couple of boat rides, including a zodiac ride across the bay of Puerto Vallarta, a really bumpy truck ride to the base camp, and then a mule ride to the top of the mountain to begin the journey back down, which will include zip lining into pool of water and rappelling down a cliff next to a waterfall. And I'm thinking that this vacation really is PG-13. And I think that because of the two girls who are ahead of me who are just precious. And yes this is a gay vacation, and I do mean girls, not gurls. One of them is here with her father, and her friend is tagging along as well. And I think it is awesome that they are here with their father and his partner. They are both 20ish, and just too cute for words. Actually it's kind of funny to see the straight tour guides work the two girls hard, just outrageously flirting with them, and then they completely get flustered when one of the boys tries to flirt with them.

So back to my PG-13 meme. Look, it's never going to be G. We are talking about a resort full of gay men. But the resort is not clothing optional, so no bare asses just hanging out. Which is not to say that there isn't plenty of skin. And quality skin at that. Really, if you want to go to a resort and see guys in speedos and square cut bathing suits, you want to go to one that's chock full of gays. Because just demographically I think we can pull it off a lot better that a resort full of straight folks. Not to say that we didn't have a small portion of bears with us, but really, the gays invented the Adonis complex years ago. As GreekBoi said as he looked around the pool, it's like an Ang Lee movie: "The dialogue is weak, but the scenery is just fabulous." Speaking of dialogue, sure there's some language, mainly the F-bomb, and some same sex PDA, but we're talking holding hands and kissing, nothing too wild and crazy. And I'm assuming that since both of the girls are in college, they've seen wilder. Of course this isn't to say that haven't been some late night "eXXXtracurricular" activities in the hot tub or on the beach, but nothing lurid or scandalous during normal hours. So basically it's PG-13.

Of course I didn't get the memo from Gay HQ that cockrings aren't just for evening wear any more. There were a lot of men who were putting their packages out for inspection by using a cockring under their bathing suits. Talk about not leaving a lot to the imagination. And while Abercrombie and Fitch is still the #1 age inappropriate clothing line, I think Hollister is coming up a close second. If this trend continues, in a couple of years men over 40 will be sporting too tight tee shirts from Sandbox Couture. Oh, and mangrooming is still the rage. I was chatting with D from LA who had a very nice chest and asked if he was naturally smooth. And he said of course, everyone in LA is naturally smooth, naturally tan, and naturally has white teeth. I really do hope his eyes were naturally blue. They were great. Now having said all of this, it was definitely not a resort full of perfect gay Ken dolls. The guy who won the best tan line contest was actually over 40, didn't have a size 30 waist, but he did have a great tan line and just seemed like a nice guy in general. So we had guys in all shapes and sizes. Oh, and we had two lesbians with us. Love them. And the funny thing is after two weeks of gay men, then next group coming in to the resort was from Olivia. We'll get back to that in a few moments.

The resort was great. A very nice large pool, great beach with little palapas for shade, several restaurants, and the rooms were fantastic. This beat the Atlantis Cancun trip in 2005 hands down! Like the Cancun trip, the pace was a bit slower than on a cruise. Which was good for me as I was having some minor issues all week (headaches, weird heartburn, etc) which I think was mainly related to coming off the cytomil. Again the group was very diverse from a body shape perspective to an age range. And like Malcom (the Altantis MC) said, "This is an attitude free" zone. And it really was. Having said that, there was one guy there who apparently lied about his age. If he's 22, then I'm 23. He was a complete hottie who I think was 17! And there was a persistent rumor that he was there "working." I think I saw him and the potential sugar daddy at the White Party getting a bit touchy feely, but I could be wrong. However, that is one way to make sure you have a "good time" on vacation.

Speaking of "fun", apparently there were a lot of people "working out", "taking naps" and oh I just need to "get out of the sun for while." But between being tired a lot, the headaches, etc, I didn't have as much "fun" as I would like. And there, I think I've completely over-used the quotation marks to imply sex. I did dance a bit and really enjoyed that. But mainly at the t dances as the late night parties were too much for me. I did a quick walk through the 80s party when it started at 11PM and that looked like fun, but I was just wiped out. And I did take a good alcohol & food induced disco nap for the White Party, but that really only got me to 130AM or so. Definitely not the early morning hours which is when it usually ends. Speaking of, I need a new white party outfit. My choker white uniform is getting old. And I can barely fit into it.

Greekboi and I both tried to take some personal photos, but not so much. So I'm declaring a photo moratorium on any new pictures of me until I look like this:
Really, I'm doing this for you. (okay, maybe not like that exactly, but less like a beached whale).

The last night was amazing. I heard a new song that's on my must list called Goodnight Tonight. I've ordered it off PerfectBeat so I should have it added to my dance collection by the end of the week. And we had the a perfect sunset as well. As the sun slowly slid into the Pacific, the sarongs came off as people dashed into the ocean for a quick skinny dip. It was great fun, but I did not participate. Maybe next time. Which I think there will be. I really liked the resort, and getting away for a little beach action before winter starts sounds pretty good. And I'm starting to know more people from these groups, so that's fun as well. We had a nice Italian dinner next to the water and then caught Shann Carr's show. She's going to be leaving Atlantis soon and I think her last show will be the March cruise which GreekBoi and I are signed up for. She'll definitely leave some big shoes to fill for Atlantis.

Sadly, I need to go grab some dinner and then start to work. I alteast need to read my email before I walk in the office tomorrow. And this is the week I start round two of the thyroid treatments. So more fun. Adios for now!

Win, Lose, and Draw

Checking email today and I thought I would hit my favorite blogs and the news to make sure we haven't gone to war in Iran while I'm gone.

1. Win: VA is turning blue again. It looks like the dems picked up enough seats to recapture the state senate. I'm not sure if the guy who ended up running in Prince William country (instead of SuperLawyer) won, but they did pick up some seats in the house.
2. Draw: ENDA passed in the House of Representatives. Don't get me wrong. It's historic and amazing, but even if it does pass the Senate, W has announced he plans to veto it. Yep, he's going to bring out that big bad veto pen specifically reserved for things like stem cell research, health care for poor kids, and employment protection for gays and lesbians. That's government for the people and by the people in action. Not.
3. Lose: Apparently the Archibishop of Nigera is rejecting the Council of Nicea? That's like the foundation of not only the Anglican church, but modern Christianity writ large. So are they going to stop saying the Nicene Creed in Nigerian Anglican churches now. Or will they continue to cherry pick the parts of the Bible, and history for that matter, that supports their power thirsty ambitions and hate? I'm guessing it's going to be the power thirsty ambitions and hate mode as usual.

A real post about my vacation soon. Needed to get that last one off my chest. ;-)

For The Bible Tells Me So

I went to go see this tonight. I'm so glad I did. It was touching and moving and just amazing. And I actually learned some things also. One of the major players in the film is Bishop Robinson and I thought back to the summer of 2004, the summer his election to the Diocese of New Hampshire had to be consented to by the Episcopal Church's General Convention. Dad and I were on a Backroads trip in Denmark and after a long bike ride, we would relax in the room watching a bit of the tube. And usually watching BBC. Being British, the General Convention was getting lots of coverage. And I remember my father using such hurtful ugly language and me getting mad. Wanting to tell him that I was just like that person he was denigrating and denouncing. But I didn't. I told him that I had friends that were gay and that I didn't appreciate his language. That he made himself sound stupid and hateful when he used such language. That he knew better and then I walked out of the room lest I say anything else. I wasn't ready to be that honest with him.

Honesty. Integrity. These words were used a lot in the movie and oddly enough I thought about the latest right wing republican gay sex scandal. But to be honest, it's not really a gay sex scandal. This sad man has wrapped himself up in a series of lies, built his life around them, believed in his own ability to separate himself from the reality that includes his same sex attraction. It doesn't mean he's gay. Like Mr. Wide Stance, I don't think he's gay. In this context, I will say that being gay is a lifestyle. Being gay is being open and honest with yourself, living with integrity. But he can't say that. And because he can't rip apart the foundations of the lies that he's based his life on, he can't be open, or honest, or live with any type of personal integrity. Instead, he has to have furtive and all to often illegal or dangerous sex to deal with his same sex attraction. It really is sad.

And I can see how it can happen. I really do feel sad for the man.

"Excuse me, I've got a child here!"

She said stridently as she pushed an EMPTY baby stroller through the very thick crowd while Daddy was carrying the child on his shoulders. Oh yes, let's all get out of HER way, because on a night when THOUSANDS of people are going to be crammed onto the streets to watch the high heel drag race, we all need to make way for her and her EMPTY baby stroller. To quote he who is an attention whore, "Bitch Please!"

Needless to say I was not amused. And even though we got there two hours early, there was no way to get a decent view. We got some libations at Juniors and then hung around a bit. At some point the crowd got too much and I had to leave. Yes before the race even happened, but it' s not like I could see from where I was.

Oh well. And I'm going to see a documentary tomorrow night, so that's my Halloween plan.

I Could Be Your Next Mistake

It's from a T-shirt on a hot guy I saw while wandering down Bourbon St.

Yep, I'm in the Big Easy, and for work no less. So kind of cool.

My hotel is in the straight end of the French Quarter. Which means that I feel young and thin walking around, and then once I get to the gay end, I'm old and fat, again. Oh well.

Can someone please explain straight strip clubs to me? There are a ton of them here. And considering that most women here almost seem to want to show you their boobs for some beads, I'm not sure why you would pay to see them. Oh, well I guess they are completely naked in the clubs here, so there is that.

But the thing is, I just don't get it. And this isn't a gay thing not wanting to see boobies. I've seen a lot of women's breast and they don't scare me. But I just don't get straight strip clubs. So you're a straight guy, you go into a strip club, you have a couple drinks, you watch the hot women, you get horny and then? And then you go home alone. It's not like you're going to score with one of the strippers (unless it's *that* kind of "strip club"). So after drinking expensive drinks and slipping one dollar bills into some girl's g-string, you're going to go home and either taking a long cold shower, or spanking the monkey.

A gay strip club I get. There are hot boys dancing around. There are other men around you. While you aren't going to score with the dancers, there are other horny men surrounding you. So you've atleast got a shot for some action there. So that makes sense.

Straight strip clubs? Not so much.

The city streets are wet again with rain

But I'm walkin' just the same
Skies turn to the usual grey
When you turn to face the day
And love don't show up in the pavement cracks
All my water colours fade to black
I'm goin' nowhere and I'm ten steps back
All my dreams have fallen flat

So if you don't recognize the song, it's Pavement Cracks by Annie Lennox. The PI Princess and I went to see her Thursday night at GW's Listner Auditorium and it was really a great concert. I love the Listner because it's a smaller, more intimate venue and even though we were in the nose bleed section I still thought we could see pretty well.

After the first song, I turned to the PI Princess and joked, "Well she's no Britney Spears." And I couldn't have been more correct. Boney thin and angular, pale with short blond hair, she looks for amazing for her age. And while she really can't dance, that's not why you are there. This isn't a concert you go to for a "show". This is the concert you go to "listen" to the music. And her voice was just amazing.

When she started to sing Pavement Cracks, I started to get chills up my spine.



She rules.

Found While Blog Surfing

"Love Is Overdue

It never quite seems to work out the way you wanted. But you know the drill: fall back to move forward. Catch you step. Avoid the cracks. Today is the only day you have anyhow. And all that love you've ever wanted? It's overdue."

Thanks m00nchild.

It's not you, it's me.

Really. It should be fun. A large crowd of gay men, in various shapes and sizes, some good music, a little liquor to get the party started. It has all of the makings of a good time.

But it started off all wrong and went downhill from there. I purposely waited until about 11PM to head over to Blow Off. I'm always early, and I hate that. But then I arrive only to find out that there was a concert that night and the doors opened at 1130. So I made my way downstairs to the back bar, got a beer, and then instead of trying to talk to anyone, I read blogs on my cell phone. Yes, I'm pathetic. But we knew that, right?

After 15 or so minutes, they open the upstairs and I walk into the main room and Bob has clips of "The Birds" showing to the music which was actually kind of cool. I had caught a bit of it earlier when I was channel surfing, so it just kind of cool. The music as good, but now the main room seems empty. As the crowd makes it's way in, I stand at the back, leaning against a wall checking out the people. It really is an interesting mix of guys. Clean cut military types, the facial hair crowd (who may or may not be bears), the twinks, and even a trio of lesbians who started dirty dancing almost immediately. And then there's me.

I wander a bit, watching people. I see someone I know. I go over and say hello. But they are with someone else and I don't want to intrude. I see the usual homo blogeratti. I get a second beer. The music is good. The crowd is shifting, not quite dancing, but now it's crowded. And I'm feeling particularly alone. I fall into this weird headspace where I question why I'm here. What's my goal. Is it to dance? Then I need to stay longer. But what's the point? If I do end up dancing, it will be by myself. I won't meet anyone. The music is good, but I don't know much of it. And then the DC equivalent of the Chelsea crowd starts to take their shirts off. Ugh. I did NOT need that. If it had been a group of bears, then I could have handled it, but that much perfection is just annoying.

And I start to edge my way to the door. People are streaming in from outside and the main room is going from crowded to packed. And it's not that I'm claustrophobic, but at some point it becomes a bit overwhelming. I lean against the door fighting the urge to flee, arguing with myself that I don't get out much. That I need to make more of an effort. But as more and more guys go by, I start to feel . . . . I don't know. Like I shouldn't be there. And so I retreat.

But to add to my many mistakes, I go to a late night diner near my house and get something to eat at like 1 in the morning. Nothing like eating your emotions. And why am I fat again?

Really, it's not you, it's me.

Cheese Slices and Green Beans

I've got House of Ruth duty tomorrow and I needed to run to the Soviet Safeway to get my items. Cheese slices and green beans. I get four boxes of cheese with 72 slices each. And then three gigantic cans of green beans. The guy in front of me in line was definitely intrigued at my purchase. But the real problem was getting it home. I don't have a granny cart, just my two hands, and they were heavy. Thankfully I could drop the green beans off at church and I'll just take the cheese back tomorrow. After the 9AM service, we'll head over to the shelter in NE and help them cook. It's light weight volunteering, once a month, a couple of hours, and I like to think it makes a difference.

Ever since I got back from Colorado, I've been running around with my head cut off. Just busy at work. Too much to do. The problem is that when I get sucked into these work cycles, everything else just falls by the wayside. Gym. Good eating habits. Any pathetic pretense of a social life. Yes, I did escape the house twice this week.

First I went to dinner up on Capital Hill. My church does these group dinner type things so this was the first one. I was supposed to bring dessert and I had thought about making something over the top like "Death By Chocolate" (have I mentioned the diet is out the window?). Then I thought, nope, no time. Let's just make some brownies. Maybe throw in some crushed up Heath toffee bars. But I did something wrong. Yes, I f&cked up a box mix of brownies. I will never be Top Chef! Where's Dale when I need him. Need, want, whatever. Anyways, after dumping the mutant brownies into the trash, I headed to Whole Foods to get a Carrot Cake to take. The evening was interesting. I don't do the social/coffee hour thing after church, so I don't really know anyone at church, so it was good to get to know some of the people. Needless to say everyone there was gay, and while we didn't talk about church that much (we actually had a very embarrassing conversation about what's on our Tivo's season pass list!), it was interesting to hear about why people come to St. Thomas'. One of the guys was a former Mormon. And he still believed in a the Book of Mormon. Not sure how I would square the two mentally and spiritually, but whatever.

So that was Wednesday night. Thursday afternoon at work I had one of those days. Just completely overwhelmed and I started to shut down. So I ran home and just sort of laid on my bed waiting for my mind to slow down a bit. By the time I felt a little bit better, I realized that I needed to get out of the house. So I went to see a couple of the Reel Affirmations movies. And while were good (well some of the shorts weren't). They weren't very up. Look, I don't need any more depression in my life. There were a couple of that talked about growing old, as single gay men. Yeah, not so uplifting.

Friday I came home almost in a good mood. The guy I interviewed was actually pretty good and might be able to help take some of the load off me. I got a call from a Navy friend of mine and I went to meet her at Vidalia's which does a wine tasting every night from 5:30-6:30PM. So we partook of that with another friend. She's got a reservist Navy friend who's single and lives in Dupont that she wants to me to meet. But he was a no show. After a flight of white wine at Vidalias and some pretty expensive cheese, we wandered the West End looking for a place for dinner. And that was a quest. Any place decent was booked till after 930. Well it was a Friday night. We ended up at the bar at FireFly and munched on apps while the rain came down.

If I can find the energy, I want to try to Blow Off tonight. But we'll see. I'm yawning already. Though I think I do have an emergency spare can of Red Bull in the fridge. So we'll see.

Odd Socks, Missing Jocks, and Snowy Baseball?

Mom offered to do some laundry for me, and since she offered, who was I to say no? So I gave her my dirty clothes and she cranked up the washing machine. Well this morning we got to play, "yours or Dads"? This is the game where we go through the laundry to determine what's mine and what's Dad's. Now on some things it's obvious. For example, the Hane's underswear? Dad. The 2Xist underwear? Mine. But with things like socks, it's a little bit harder.

Mom, picking up a pair of socks, said, "Oh these are your Dads. I know them by now." And she proceed to tell me about how this pair of socks got separate by fate, and how Dad wouldn't give up on the missing sock. He hung the remaining sock on his door in the hope that the prodigal sock would return. And return it did. About six months later, as Mom pulled out the flannel sheets for Dad's bed, she found, clingy tightly to the flannel sheet, the missing sock. And there was much rejoicing in the house.

Now, things don't always go so smoothly. In my family, there's the infamous story of the missing jock. I thankfully wasn't there, but a couple of years ago my sister and brother-in-law (BNL) were living with my parents while they were house hunting. Well apparently during one of the times my Mom was washing the clothes, one of my Dad's jocks went missing. And then it turned into a blame game. Who had stolen the jock. This was pre-CSI days, so there was no formal investigation, but there are some suspects. Now mind you, I have no idea why someone would want to steal the jock, but I think that's irrelevant. Now whenever something is missing around those house, we always say that's it's with the missing jock.

Anyways, my family isn't normal.

Now it's not like I read the Washington Post every day at home, mainly because I get most of my news from the internet, but atleast there is news in the Washington Post. Here in Colorado Springs, I'm subjected to the Gazette, which is pretty pathetic. Mainly a combination of the police blotter and recycled news from the major papers, the Gazette doesn't take too long to read. But with the Colorado Rockies playing in the NLCS there were several articles about them. And what kills me is that I read atleast FOUR articles that talked about the possibility of the Rockies playing in snow. The temp dropped 30 degrees last night and right now you can't see Pike's Peak because of the snow falling up at the higher altitudes. So it's quite possible that they may end up playing in the snow, but is this such a big story that it has to be be mentioned
in four different stories?

Home for the Weekend

I left beautiful sunny, warm, San Diego and flew to Colorado Springs last night. The flight was uneventful and I managed to get quite a bit of work done at the airport so that was good.

The rentals are fine. Still talking over and past each other, but I try my best to listen to all of the conversations.

Other than cleaning up Mom's PC and showing Dad how to send his digital pictures to Mom, I've got limited PC duty on this trip. So not too bad.

We're going to church tomorrow. All of us. And I'll be wearing my little Episcopal pin. We'll see if that leads to any interesting conversations.

It's just kind of slow and quiet here. Which is nice for a change. I'm sure I'll ramp back up to warp 9 once I get back to DC.

Bush, Carter, Gore, Hillary, and Obama

Does anyone really believe W when he says that we don't torture?

It's nice to see Jimmy Carter (still much reviled despite all of the good work he's done since he left office) come out and say what so many people are thinking. That yes, the US is torturing people and all the new definitions and parsing of statements doesn't hide that fact.

Congrats to Al Gore on winning the Nobel Peace Prize. I hope all of the climate change deniers choke on their pretzels!

Hillary. What do you do with a problem like Hillary? Look, she's a cold, passionless, calculated, politician, and I mean in that in the not good way. Sure she's capable and would probably make a good President and I'll probably end up voting for her if she gets the nomination, but I don't like her, I don't trust her, and I think her presidency will continue to divide and polarize the country.

And that's why I like Obama. Yes he's a bit inexeperienced, but I think he's a real person, with real faults, and he's more of a public servant, than a politician. I like to think that he can draw the best out of people, to take them above their partisan positions, and try to move America forward. Be the Uniter that W never was. I can dream can't I?